Castle of Glass
by WeLiedAboutTheCookies
Summary: The scientist was late tonight. She always came at 9:30 sharp. He didn't understand why she hadn't come, because she was never late. The room was quiet and cold, and even though he couldn't move, he could feel it settle around his tiny glass world. It scared him more than usual tonight. (Modern AU, crystallized until modern day, ArminxChrista, HanjixLevi)
1. Chapter 1

A woman walks slowly in a museum. It is empty, the only other presences in the room being a janitor and the other exhibits in the other hallways. She stands, her glasses perched on her nose as she stares up the peculiar cast object in the middle of the large room.

It was made from an age old mold that she herself had found, buried under soil and easily distinguishable pumice rocks. The details of the mold itself were absolutely fascinating, features etched into stone and preserved for thousands of years, or maybe longer. All that remained of the creature's world were rings of rock large enough to hold countries inside.

They had once been walls.

Once more she looked at the mold, now hardened and standing over fifty feet above her head in the middle of the domed room. The beast, fifty-seven and two point six inches tall to be exact, seemed not only tall but strong.

The humanoid shape was filled with the indents of hard wired muscle, built to fight and kill. Since it was so large, small details like that were easy to make out. It had its large fist raised as if it was sending a punch at something, namely what she had found underneath it, but at that moment she was concentrating on the more male seeming beast.

Its face was the most distinguishable part of it though. It had a very abnormal facial shape, worn, with high cheekbones and a long shaped chin. A ragged mop of hair was hanging in its face, jaws wide open as if letting out a final battle cry, though its face was tilted slightly as if staring at something other than its opponent. A long serpentine tongue peeked from behind a set of ragged teeth, the back ends of the jaw set higher in the creature's cheeks than the rest of its tootheline. It was lipless, skin pulled back gruesomely, and yet still fitting for the creature. It's eyes were burrowed into its face slightly and were narrowed with rage and anger and concentration.

Below it, its opponent was on its back, an arm raised as if to protect its face. It looked female, narrow face and armor like bone extensions on its chest, while the other was bare of any armor. It seemed to be skinless, sinew and muscle outlined in the mold easily. Its fingers were nimble, and under its hand and beneath it they had found the remains of some sort of house, petrified. It was staring off to the side and up slightly, as if not worried about the opponent above it, and something else. She noted how they all seemed to be facing the same direction. Its full lips were parted, slits in its face beneath its eyes.

Female, for sure, the scientist decided.

She found it amazing. Giants. Real giants.

She could almost imagine the fight in the process, the male roaring loudly, feet colliding with the ground as it charged, fists up to collide with its opponent. The female would dodge, grabbing the male's arm and spinning him around, while he crushed buildings beneath his great bare feet. The male would stumble before whirling about and punching again, successfully knocking his opponent to the ground. Beneath her the buildings would shatter from the sheer weight of the giants as they fought. He would let out a final victory roar, raising his fist before realizing, just as the female did, that whatever had petrified them was coming their way.

And for thousands of years their forms would lay under the ground, decaying until nothing was left, not even the bones.

She sighed, adjusting her position as she leaned, cross armed against the railing that prevented her from walking up closer to it.

These, however, were not the only things she had found beneath the ground. Five bodies were preserved perfectly. So insanely perfectly, they seemed only to have been freshly deceased. They were all encased in some sort of crystalline material, near the necks of the creatures for some odd reason. It had taken three straight weeks to fully remove the corpses from the stuff, where it was then sent to another lab to be analyzed. The one -a single- near the female creature's neck was remarkably similar to her.

The girl was somewhat short, a pair of leather boots reaching up to her knees on her feet. White pants with a strange assortment of straps atop them -two leather buckles connected to each other over each thigh, along with a leather belt and a thin leather wrap around her hips- seemed like a uniform. She wore a frayed grey shirt, what looked like a hood resting beneath her head. She had a narrow face, and square nose. Her lips were parted slightly, and her eyes were cracked open narrowly to reveal a pair of bright blue eyes beneath.

She bore a strikingly similar resemblance to the female gaint, and the painters studied images of her to get what they assumed was a correct color. She still had a thin layer of the stuff covering her, for safety purposes, since it had done such a good job of preservation so far. She seemed to be in a position that indicated she was being held in place by her upper half, and through holes in the shirt a few strands of flesh were attached, actually attached, to her hands, face, and arms.

There were four near the neck of the male.

The most remarkable was a male, about the same age as the female and two others in the group. He had short cropped, wild dark brown hair, which hung in his face similar to male giant. He had scars beneath his eyes, like burn marks, in a triangular pattern. Bits of flesh clung to him as well, but his eyes were wide open. They were bright green-blue, flecks of gold riddled in them. His jaw was set, his lips a thin determined line.

His brow was furrowed, but his eyes seemed to be turned up in surprise. He was wearing a loose, long sleeved off-yellow shirt, a few strands of thread sewn near the top as if to hold it together. He wore a similar bottom to what the female did, all of the bodies did in fact, as if they were part of some sort of organisation. He also bore a striking similarity to the male giant as well.

The second in the group of four was a female, gripping onto the male's arm as if for dear life, while still holding another in her grip. In her free hand -which was in front of the second male, since she had her arm wrapped over his shoulder- she gripped onto a frayed red scarf, which seemed almost like a valuable expression. She seemed slightly of Asian origin, narrow eyes and thin lips set in a round face. She had shoulder length black hair, a few strands hanging in her face. She seemed determined and brave, almost a mother hen in a way, holding onto the two males. She wore a white shirt, which was ragged, and had a similar strap system and boots.

The second male seemed absolutely terrified, mouth wide open as if screaming. His round blue eyes were splayed wide, a fitting cut of chin length blonde hair framing his face. He held on to the female's arm tight, his knuckles white. His face was round, and he seemed somewhat aware of how terrifying the situation would have been in the time period. He wore a white shirt as well, making it seem even more uniform. He also wore the white pants and leather straps, but one of the boots was missing, the sole of his bare foot black.

Lastly was a final male who seemed disgruntled, and was in a protective chokehold of the male who seemed similar to the male giant. He wore a white button down shirt, a cravat, and the uniform bottom just as the others. But he had a metal sword handle in his tight grip, the broken blade seemingly shattered. He had fine features, a narrow nose, a narrow and yet full face. His lips were set into a thin line, but he seemed angry and concerned. His black hair was put into an undercut, which seemed to fit him, and his steel grey eyes were narrowed. He looked to be the oldest though, his face slightly worn by years and experience, his free hand, which was splayed open to protect the other three, calloused and rough.

The four were also sheltered by the crystal substance, though it seemed thickest around the brown haired boy. She didn't know if the recovery crew did that for a reason, or they simply couldn't break it. They had said it was hard to shatter.

She let out a sigh as she walked past the cases keeping the bodies safe, and felt an excited feeling flutter through her stomach. A few months after the exhibit was opened, she would be able to do an autopsy on the bodies for further investigation.

She began to leave, her footsteps echoing across the smooth floor.

She stopped and looked back at the giant plaster forms and the bodies in the cases.

She didn't know what it was, but she swore she saw the blonde haired male move.

She blinked, and stared for a moment.

After she was sure he hadn't, she left, dismissing the thought as simply a trick of her eyes.

And alone in the room, they all began to gather dust once again.

But the boy remained frozen in place.

 _Blink_


	2. Chapter 2

He was terrified.

He didn't know what was going on. It felt like mere seconds ago, he had watched a liquidy fire erupt from one of the nearby mountains. Mere moments ago, Wall Maria was melted and titans were released into Rose. It felt like seconds ago, ash rain had begun to fall over the city of Trost.

He was confused. He could remember that only -nanoseconds ago, probably- Eren had grabbed Levi, Mikasa and himself. He could still remember the heat enveloping him, and the world going black.

But when he could see again, he did not see the village that the Rogue and Female titans had fought in and almost crushed. Instead, he saw people. Strange faces, staring, oohing and ahhing, holding up strange objects that flashed a bright light.

He could not move. He could not swerve his head. He couldn't even wiggle his toes. His energy was so low, he could hardly blink. He still felt fine, even if he wasn't breathing, and hadn't eaten or drank in forever.

From what he could make out, he was in some sort of domed room. He could hardly move his eyes to look up, but when he managed too, he saw a large glass half circle covering the room. Sometimes there would be clouds. Sometimes it would be a clear sky, just sun. And then there would be rain, with thunder and lightning. Off to the left, he saw big frozen statues of what appeared to be the Rogue titan and Female titan. He could see Annie in a case, covered in the crystal stuff, across the way. She was frozen in that strange hanging position, her arms splayed out as if she was commanding the winds, her legs straight and close together. Supports held her up in that position.

She was frozen too. From behind the strange substance, he could not see her move. He couldn't even move his mouth. It was frozen in place, the crystal attached to it, keeping it wide open and awkward. He couldn't even make himself speak. He couldn't scream. He couldn't cry out for help.

He didn't know where he was. He didn't know why he was alive, or how the crystal was keeping him alive; even though he knew it was. He didn't even know what the date was.

For weeks, all he could do was stand still, staring at the changing and surging crowds, observing the faces and strange clothing, trying to see what was going on.

Trying to understand.

He never could though.

Every weekend, a woman would come. She was tall, and had dark auburn-brown hair in a very messy high ponytail. She wore glasses, and her bangs were trimmed to her chin and hanging in her face. She would sit for hours, rain or shine, staring at the statues of the Rogue and Female titan, and sometimes the cases they were being kept in. In fact, sometimes she would talk. She would talk about her life, her job, how excited she was to look at them all closer, how cool people thought they were. She didn't seem aware though, that he could hear her muffled voice through the glassy crystal and the case. She would ramble on and on for hours, speaking aloud her theories of what the Rogue and Female titans were, what the crystals were. What had 'killed' them.

She was curious.

He understood that feeling all too well, something that told him that the thing the firey water had come from was called a 'volcano', something that told him that he would never get to see the jungle, or the ocean. He had never seen them before. Unless he got out, he still probably wouldn't. What would the people in the crowds do? Scream and run terrified? Would they think he was one of the undead? Or would he be just kept here, in the case like some sort of artifact?

He could feel himself shiver sometimes, a quick movement. People would pause, for milliseconds, as if debating what they had seen; but they all quickly moved on. They had seen nothing, they seemed to say to themselves.

One night, the woman did not come. He could see a clock on the far wall, behind Annie, but it took him a while to make out the numbers. She always came at nine-thirty sharp. No earlier, no later. He could feel himself shudder again. It was more violent than usual, a quick shaking of his fingers and then his head, and then his knees and toes. He couldn't help it. It got cold at night. He shivered again. And again. He couldn't stop.

 _Shiver, shiver, shiver_. He sung to himself in his head. _Why do I always just shiver?_

He felt strange thoughts crowd into his brain.

 _How old am I?_

 _When was I born?_

 _Why am I here?_

 _How long has it been?_

 _What is the woman's name?_

 _What is my name?_

He shivered again. This time it hurt. He could feel his fingers and knees and toes scraping against the glassy substance. His jaw wobbled in the fine supports of the crystal. He shivered again. He didn't know what he was doing, but he just kept shivering. He could feel his jaw moving, pulling away from crystal. It felt stuck to his skin almost, and it stung as he kept shivering. He began to feel scared. What was going on? What was happening to him? Was he dying? He shivered again. He felt the crystal near his fingers grow thin.

He shivered again. This time it was more of a twitch. His fingers felt cold.

It took him a moment to realize what had just happened.

He'd broken the crystal.

He froze, feeling his eyes begin to tear up. Since when had he been able to cry? He didn't know how he was crying, but he sure did know why. He was relieved. And scared. And excited. And nervous. But mostly scared. If he could break it, then he could get out. He could see the jungle, and the ocean! He could escape! He wouldn't have to simply hang here all day, just staring at the crowds.

It felt wet and hot on his face. He hadn't felt anything like that in a while.

He moved his fingers around. He could feel more crystal. He began to claw at it with his fingernails, pulling his arm with energy he didn't know he had. He could get out! He could escape! He could breathe and eat and sleep again!

He continued to shiver as he fought away at the crystal. His jaw came loose. It felt strange, sore and raw as he worked it. He tried to speak. A strange noise came out. He kept fighting though. He rolled his wrist, clawing at the crystal near it as his hand was freed, small pieces of the crystal falling to the floor of the case.

He kept pulling, using his shoulder and elbow to hollow out room for it, shouldering his way from Mikasa's grip. Her scarf was a few inches from his cheek. If he could reach it, he could pull his arm through. He began to headbut the crystal above his head, pushing on his toes the other way, pulling his arm, leaning towards the scarf. The crystal was soft for some reason. He didn't know why, but he was relieved. He could do it!

Finally, he felt the soft fabric bend -if at all, stiffly- under the pressure of his head. Mikasa's hand felt lukewarm. Was she aware too? If she felt him moving, would she start to fight her way out? Would she wake Eren, and in turn, Levi? He couldn't focus on that now though. If he kept fighting, he could get out. He worked slowly, pulling his arm through. It slid into place near his side, pressed against his hip and leg. He let his face contort into one of angry concentration.

He glanced at the clock.

 _ **10:38**_

It had taken him more than an hour to get here. He grinned, just a little bit. He pushed up on his toe, kneeing the crystal. It moved, slightly. He kneed again, pressing with his elbow and knee to try and shift it out of place. He swung his hips as best he could in the cramped space. He wondered if this is what an animal for dissection felt like.

Hardly able to move, willing to escape to save its own life. That was how he felt. Tied down to an observation table, and still able to escape. Air was seeping in through the hole his arm had made.

He began to breathe. It felt strange at first, as if his lungs had gathered dust from missuse. He could hear himself taking wheezy, gasping breaths as he first breathed, through his mouth as he worked, panting, wheezing like an old man.

He kneed again, pushing his elbow against the crystal. It was strange, he shouldn't be able to break rock, and yet it seemed to have softened. He screwed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth. He pushed his body violently, kneeing and elbowing and headbutting the crystal quickly and repeatedly. It only lasted a few moments, but his hand felt sore from the power he had used to keep breaking it.

He let out a sigh, letting his head droop and lean against the crystal slightly. He could still see where his face had made and indentation. It looked weird, looking at his face from the inside. His vision was still blurry, very slightly, but he could make out the details.

He noticed a shape outside the case as he stared at it. He let his eyes focus on what was outside.

It was the woman. Her mouth was agape, eyes wide, one of the flat, rectangular objects in her hand. She looked blurry, as if he was looking at her from underwater, from behind the crystal.

He stared for a moment. He tried to make his voice work.

"Ha... lp... ee..." It came out strange, unused and croaky. His throat hurt.

The woman didn't seem to hear.

"Ha-ha... lp... me!" He cried, rocking his body violently again. He screwed his eyes shut and repeated himself, over and over again. "Ha...p me! Heh...lp... help... me! Ha-help... me!" He kept fighting, kneeing the crystal, elbowing it, headbutting it, fighting and fighting. He was breathing heavily, but naturally. "Help... mah-me! He-help! Ha-elp... ha-help... me!"

He opened his eyes. The crystal was only slightly thinner, but just enough for him to make out that the woman wasn't alone. There was another woman, around his age it seemed. He could see her long blonde hair and the shape of her face. He kept rocking, swaying, kicking and fighting.

"Sss... ess... ohh... ess!" He cried. "Ess... oh... ess! Ess-oh... ess!" S.O.S. That had to get a reaction. "Ess... oh-ess!" He screamed it the last time, but he kept painstakingly chanting it as both women seemed to break from their stupor.

"Ess...esss... oh-ess!" He watched as the brown haired woman handed the rectangular object over to the younger blonde woman, saying something, before rushing off. She was leaving? Wait, she was leaving!

"ESS-OH-ESS!" He screamed, fighting against the crystal as hard as he could. His knee broke through. "ESS-OH-ESS!" His voice still wasn't working properly, but just enough. "HA-HELP ME! ESS OH ESS! HELP ME! HELP US!" He was screeching. He could hear it vibrating around the crystal prison he was still fighting to escape, rattling around in the glass outside. "Brah-bring... ha-ha-her... ba-back! Ha-help us! HELP US!"

The air was beginning to run out. He glanced over. With all the shaking he had done, the crystal sticking out where his arm had been, which had supplied him air, seemed to have closed up. The hole near his knee was too small to give him enough air fast enough. He glanced at the others. Their faces were still obscured by the crystal. But _he_ could breathe. Whatever the crystal had done to keep him alive was now stopping.

"Ah-I cah-can't... bah-breathe!" He cried. He was beginning to cry now. He felt despreate, afraid. He began to thrash and writhe."ESS-OH-ESS! AIR! HELP ME!"

Next thing he knew, he saw two figures burst into the room not too far away. One of them was the woman, he noticed. The other seemed to be a man in some sort of dark blue uniform. The man raised something up to the top corner of the case and began fiddling with it.

He kept screaming though. He could feel the air begin to grow thin inside his glass prison. He'd been thrashing so hard, he could turn around in it now, but that didn't matter.

"I CA-CAN'T BREATHE!" They seemed to hear that. The man began to work more frantically, until the side of the case finally flew open.

"AIR! HA-HELP!" He screamed again as the man lunged forward and began to pull on the crystal where his arm had been. The woman helped too, pulling and pushing. It began to shake and wiggle.

Suddenly, there was a loud crack.

The section of crystal fell away, and a hole barely large enough for his mouth and nose remained. He pushed his head forward, taking big gulps of air. He could hear the people clearly now. They seemed to be working quickly and efficiently with each other.

"Christa, keep this on video!" The brown haired woman said. The blonde nodded nervously, but didn't say anything. "Mike, I need your phone!"

"Ambulance?"

"Yeah."

"Here." He kept sucking in panicked breaths of air as he watched the man in uniform -Mike- pull something from his pocket and hand it to the brown haired woman. Her fingers danced across the object, which made a strange beeping noise, and then she held it up to her ear.

"I need an ambulance or two at the Hillside Museum of History, right now! The situation's way too hard to put into words, but bring four oxygen suppliers and some IVs!"

There was a long pause, and the woman continued to speak and nod her head. The man spoke.

"Kid, I'ma get you out, okay? Do you think you're gonna be okay?"

He shook his head. He felt horrible. His head was spinning, his eyes felt as if they were going to jump out of their sockets, his throat was burning, his stomach felt like a bottomless pit, and he also felt as if he was on the verge of vomiting.

"Mm-mm." He shook his head frantically. He didn't want to speak. "Mmm-mm!"

"Hold tight for now, okay? I'm need'ja to help me get you out of this. Just imagine that you're a baby chicken in an egg, okay? You gotta hatch."

The man's words made sense. He leaned back, pushing his fingers through the hole. He began to pull away from the inside. The man -Mike, he decided he'd call him- did the same from the outside, pulling and pushing at the slowly crumbling and cracking crystal from the top and sides.

"Kid, what's your name?" Mike asked as they worked quickly. It was much easier with another person helping him. In fact, at Mike's question, the answer popped into his head like lightning.

"Ah-ah-Armin... Arh-Arlert..." He was still crying, he realized.

"Armin Arlert?" Mike asked, as if for confirmation.

"Mmm." He nodded. He didn't want to speak anymore. When he spoke, he felt sick. He could just feel it rising up in his gut, like water boiling in a pot.

At this point they'd made a hole that looked big enough for him to crawl through.

"Here, Armin. Push your head through here, 'n twist your shoulders to the side. I'm gonna pull you out."

He followed his orders, listening warily. "When're the ambulances gonna get here!?"

"They're on the other side of town. If traffic's good, then about fifteen to twenty minutes, maybe." The brown haired woman answered.

"Oh jeez." Mike replied. "Here, Armin. Just like that. There ya go." Mike wound his hands around his shoulders and helped pull him out. Mike was strong, he realized. He was lifted in Mike's grip, before being gently set on the floor.

For a while, he sat there, staring at the hallway blankly. The girl named Christa seemed sympathetic, and had the rectangular thing in her hand still. She sat down next to him, patting his shoulder.

"It's okay." She said quietly. "You're out now, so you're safe. We're gonna get you to a hospital."

He nodded slightly, but kept staring. He could hear more of the crystal cracking. He saw the brown haired woman -he still didn't know her name- set aside chunks of the crystal on the cold, tiled floor.

He let his eyes wonder, but he didn't move anything below his shoulders. He realized he was missing a boot, and his pant leg up to his knee. How had that happened again? He wasn't sure. He wasn't sure of anything now. He looked slowly up at Mike. He was standing in the case, prying away chunks of the crystal to reveal Mikasa. She was twitching, but otherwise unmoving.

He closed his eyes.

His head hurt. He could hear loud noises echoing outside the building. He could hear the doors burst open. He could hear tiny wheels squeaking against the floor. He could hear the brown haired woman's voice explaining the situation.

And then he fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

For a while, the only thing Armin could hear was a soft and persistent beeping. He could feel very little other than a small bed, of which he was laying in. He found himself to be trapped in the world of slumber, half aware as he waited for the day to continue on. Every once and awhile he could hear a door click open, rummaging about, and then the door would close and he would be left in the silence, with nothing but the beeping to accompany him.

The sleep he was encompassed in was heavy, clinging to him and dragging him further down as his consciousness was fought to keep him afloat. He could hear, and he wanted so badly to wake, but he could not. It was as if his eyes were beyond his control, and as if they refused to budge when he tried to open them. In fact, it felt almost as if he needed to wake, but he simply could not.

Armin found it to be aggravating, his struggle to pull himself out of the ocean of black continuing on for what felt like hours upon end, his wandering thoughts threatening to pull him from his steady and unmoving course up and to the light.

He let out a breath, feeling the urge to roll over. It was almost as if it were a slow morning back at home, when he was young. His body didn't want to wake, but he did.

He listened for a little while, feeling confused. What had happened last? All he could recollect was the explosion, and then waking in a lucid state, before suffocating. After that he was pulled from somewhere, and there were many voices. And then he fell into this deep, dreamless sleep.

"Is this the room?" A young woman asked. He could feel his ears perk. He must not have noticed the door opening.

"For…" A few papery sounds followed. "Armin Arlert, correct?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Here you go."

"Thank you."

He waited as he heard some soft footsteps, and a hollow scraping across a tiled floor. He winced subconsciously at the screeching sound. There was a plop, and a sigh.

"Well, it's me again."

He recognized this voice… It was the woman's assistant. The small blonde one who had held the object. The one who had comforted him in his state of hyperventilation, with soft words and even… A hug. He smiled very slightly. He hadn't had a hug in such a long time.

"It's been… Three days now? I think so. Yeah."

A soft chuckle, resounded from his bedside.

"I wish I could sleep as much as you. It's been a long three days. You and your friends scared us really bad. We thought you were dead in there. Like… Kinda like bugs in Amber. That's what Hanji said."

There was a pause.

"This'd better not end up like Jurassic Park with those giants."

He didn't know what Jurassic Park was, but he had a feeling that the giants she were speaking of where the Titans.

"When you wake up, I'll show you." She said. "You probably don't even know what a dinosaur is."

There was a long silence. Armin began to try to open his eyes once more. It was a hard struggle, but it would be worth it. He knew it.

"I hope you wake up soon." She began to say. As she spoke, he began to recall her name. Christa.

He began to crack open his eyes as she spoke.

"I mean, they're starting to think you're in a coma. We're gonna have to put you on a machine. I don't wanna have to pull the plug…" She paused. "You only read about that kinda thing in books. Or you see it in a tragedy."

He peeled open his eyes to see a tiled ceiling. The beeping remained, and he could see lights to his side. Christa gasped.

"Y-you're awake!"

He didn't listen to her for a moment, instead focusing on sitting up. He let out a groan as he struggled, and Christa rushed to the hall. Armin looked down at his hands in disbelief. He was alive. He was alive. A tube erupted from his left arm, but he didn't move to touch it. He was terrified. And… Excited.

He looked to his left, spotting a pole, and a box… And a window.

He stood, gripping the pole. He stumbled, looking down in surprise as he saw it had wheels, but he used it as support to move towards the window. It was bright… But glaring cleared his vision. As he stared out the window, he felt his breath catch in his throat.

Water, grey and blue, stretched as far as his eye could see, grey and golden clouds rolling across stark blue skies. Foam peaked as the waters churned onto a pale, unpopulated shore. It was like nothing he had ever seen. He was so unfamiliar with this, this was something that he had read of in books that claimed to hold fairy tales. It was an ocean.

"Sir, I'm going to need you to sit back down." Armin looked over to see who appeared to be a nurse, Christa hovering over her shoulder nervously.

"I'm sorry." He stated confused. "Where am I?"

"You're in the Hillside Hospital and ER complex."

He furrowed his brow in confusion for a moment, they only mean full word he recognized being 'hospital'."

"W-was I hurt?" He glanced down at himself to see nothing but a patient's uniform. His own clothes were gone. He was barefoot on the cold tiled floor -ice cold, he now realized- and he instinctively curled his toes as he stood, glancing back up at the woman with a look of confusion.

"You were asleep for three days Armin." Christa said softly. "You remember me right?"

He nodded slowly, the blurry images in his mind forming a now clear picture.

"I-I couldn't… I couldn't breathe…" He glanced over his shoulder and back out at the ocean, still gripping onto the pole, water bags swinging haphazardly from the top. He anxiously picked up the tubes on the floor, which were still held deep in his arm by some sort of clear, sticky substance.

"Could you please sit down?" The nurse asked.

He nodded, even the an uneasy feeling was forming in his stomach. He didn't know this woman, much less did he recognize her blue and white uniform, or half of the items laying splayed around the room. He hardly knew Christa. As he seated himself on the bed, and the nurse began what he assumed was a standard procedure -eyes, nose, mouth etc- he found a question bubbling up in his mind.

"Where's Eren?"

There was a pause.

"No one else's woken up yet."

He glanced down at the smooth tiled floor, spotting his feet swinging mere inches above the floor.

"You need to rest."

"I can't!" Armin said softly. "I need to know where everyone is…"

"They're still asleep."

"Then can I go outside?"


	4. QUICK NOTE ABOUT HATERS

Hey guys! I'm super duper sorry I haven't been updating as of late. I've got some crappy IRL problems concerning some friends being bullied as of late, and I just wanted to say a few things because I myself have gotten some very hateful and concerning reviews from a Guest.

Honestly, I wouldn't want to say what the reviewer said in both ' _Castle of Glass_ ' and ' _Mirror_ ', in case you know who it is. But if you do happen to be reading. You, yes _you_ the one who cussed me out in the reviews, I'd like to let you know something.

First of all, I don't know you. You don't know me. But if you'd like, you can go ahead and make an account to private message me. Cuss me out all you want, I won't report you, but I _will_ have something to say about it. In other words, come at me bro!

Second of all, if you don't like my work, or my friend's work, then refrain from reading it. Simple as that. You sort of alluded to reading multiple fics -I assume, I'm not posative- and by reading the first one/chapter you could have simply stopped reading.

Third of all, yes I know I have not been updating. But with the clearly arrogant and rude attitude you have been displaying in the reviews, I'm sure you don't know what kind of crap I'm currently dealing with right now in my private life, and while you're words do not effect me, it is still bothersome.

Three of my friends, one of which is genderfluid, the other completely trans, and the final being clearly bisexual and also black, are being treated _VERY_ disrespectfully. One of them was freaking crying the other day because he called her a nigger, and told her she belonged in the cotton feilds. Honestly, I hate people like that, because by being rude to my friends he's been rude to me; and deserves a good punch in the face for all the shit he has been spewing. I know him, _personally_.

However, I _don't_ know you. I truly hope I don't know you in real life, and never will. You had better hope so too. I also hope you haven't been baraging other writers with this nonsense. This is a site full of many young and truly talented writers, and there are even some proffessional authors on here.

If my writing is truly as shitty as you claim, it's not stopping me. I'm going to keep writing to get better and better, and you can't stop me. I don't give a flying fuck about what you say. (Excuse my French)

So what, I don't always check my grammer and spelling? That's what the reviews are for, notifying me of my mistakes and double-posts and whatnot ( _thank you to those who have helped me in that area_ ). Not hating or flaming. So what, some of the stories on my page are voilent and disturbing? I'm sure most of them have disclaimers for alarming material. If not, I'd love for you to let me know which ones don't. So what I don't have a constant flow of ideas and 24 hours a day to write? That's life. Writer's block they call it. I'm sorry if I haven't updated something, or if you want me to start writing something. I've had to pull away from several collabs and requests because I just haven't had the time as of late. And I'm truly sorry for that too.

Honestly, your reviews have just allowed me to make a statement. I am not effected very greatly, if at all about what you have said. I know I am a great writer, not only from the many, many, many reviews that outnumber yours, but from teachers, peers, and adults around me. Hell, guess what? Someone once IMed me telling me I should submit a story into a contest. A contest dude, and on a very high ranking writing site at that.

But if I hear you have been reviewing like this to other writers who may not be as confident as I, I assure you mister/miss, you're gonna get it. It's not gonna be me, it's gonna be the bullet train called life coming right down the tracks at you.

As for my dedicated readers and followers, I am sorry I haven't updated. I have another chapter for ' _Naive_ ' in the works, and am brainstorming for ' _Castle of Glass_ '. I apologize for inconveniencing you with this note, and if it is to be removed, I hope the mods see it as a sign to keep their eyes out.

If you have been negatively reviewed in such a fashion (cussed out and shamed pretty much), them shoot me an IM. I would love to talk about it. Also, thanks for reading through my venting session. I'm just done with rude and disrespectful folks. As for now, goodnight and good wishes to you all.

Join the **dark** side.

~Cookie


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